Good fortune is a double edged sword
by raisecain
Summary: A bit of a mash of a load of things that I have either read or experienced, be it fanfiction, novels, fairytales or lunchtime banter with friends has snowballed leading to this monstrosity. Fair warning, it shall be eventual femslash, shall include swearing, abuse, mentions of non-con and rape etc. Not for sensitive souls. This is out of my hands entirely, I don't know what will be
1. Chapter 1

**A/N A sincere apology to anyone that I have unintentionally adopted ideas from, to say your work is inspiring doesn't begin to cut it. As for my English (grammar, punctuation, spelling etc.) , they don't exactly teach it terribly well in my school. Updates shall be sporadic, after the summer and no guarantee they will be any better during. So I'll leave it at that, enjoy if you can, if not thanks for reading anyway. Let me know if you have any questions, suggestions or if you think it's worth continuing. Obviously this is non for profit and purely a stress reliever, I own only my story none of the characters or the original world it was set in.**

**Cheers all,**

**razingcain**

**Edit: To clear up confusion regarding the language they are speaking I have decided to use a key of sorts which goes as follows-**

_Italics" = _**French**

"Block"= **English**

_Italics = _**Thoughts, dreams, surreal moments etc. (in the event these are used) also used for a line or two after chapter title as catch up.**

**_Bold and italicized_**= **Memories (in the event these are used)**

**Hope this helps make things a little clearer.**

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**Chapter One: In the name of motherly love..**

Living on a large patch of land in the French countryside, young Fleur Delacour found the sights, smells and sounds of the larger cities overwhelming and captivating. It was all too easy to get distracted by everything around from the well-kept shop fronts in the central business district to the more dilapidated and run down areas that housed the poor and the homeless.

It was as the nine year old was walking down the streets observing everything with her wide icy blue eyes that a small body barrelled into her knocking her off her feet and winding her. It was with indignation that she half lifted, half shoved the unknown entity off her. Standing before her was a young girl who looked all the younger due to her ill-fitting and tattered clothing, paired with hollow cheeks from obvious malnourishment likely resulting in her diminutive size.

Hastily the girl shook her scraggly mousey brown hair out of her face revealing a pale complexion and deep chocolate brown eyes that betrayed a fiery temperament and intelligence beyond their undoubtedly young years. Although the girl was so very clearly not a local she spoke perfect French and respectfully as she extended a hand to help Fleur on to her feet. _'Sorry Miss, I didn't mean to knock you over.'_ Although genuine it was clear that the girl was distracted.

_'Hey!_' The young girl's head snapped around eye's narrowing in fierce determination and the taller boy heading towards them. _'What do you think you're doing London? I'm not done with you!'_ The boy's speech was rough and although he too was underfed his gangly limbs gave him an unfair advantage over the girl. It was only then that Fleur noticed that both children were bloodied. The girl had numerous scratches, a black eye, busted lip and was struggling to stand straight, however it's clear she gave as good as she got. The boy had a broken nose, blood still pouring from it in rivulets, stepped gingerly and his voice was noticeably higher than it should have been.

Before Fleur could do anything the boy had hauled the girl away and pinned her to the wall of what Fleur presumed must be an orphanage if the grimy faces pressed up against the window were any indication. The girl spat in his face, not bothering to struggle, likely having learned from experience.

It was at that moment that Apolline Delacour made her appearance. _'Fleur! Why did you go off without me?_' She sharply reprimanded her daughter before realising that her attention was fixated on the scene before her. It was in that moment that she knew, the girl was her daughters mate. Her brow furrowed and her mouth twisted in disgust. However she was left with no choice.

Apolline tore the older boy off the girl just after he had head butted, dropped and proceeded to lash out at the child. A set of nun's came rushing out of the ruined building. One grabbed the boy and clipped him 'round the ears. _'Phillipe! How dare you? What do you think you are doing? Do you want to end up in a young man's institution?'_ Her words flew as she scolded the boy who rightly glanced down sheepishly at his toes. _'No Sister,'_ he replied in a half whisper. She took him firmly by the elbow before leading him inside. Likely to clean him up and set his punishment.

Phillipe however was of no concern to Apolline.

She turned to observe the young girl that had captured her daughter's attention. The nun was doing her best to treat the girl with cloths and water. _'Allow me sister, perhaps it would be better to revive her inside and I may be of assistance.'_ The nun startled out of her muttering and clumsy motion snapped around to find the Delacour matriarch she gave her a terse nod, brow knitted. Apolline barked an order at Fleur who scurried after them rocking on the balls of her feet wringing her hands worriedly. Together the two carried the prone light body indoors to lay her on the barren and scarred wooden table in what was clearly the dining area.

Apolline requested a bowl and fresh cool water to use to revive the girl. Again the nun merely nodded before rushing out to the well to pump some water as in the house if one could call it that, it was tepid and sour. While the woman was gone Apolline subtly sent a spark of healing through the girl. Large eye's opened unafraid and questioning. _'You were unconscious,'_ Apolline explained uncharacteristically gently however her tone remained firm. The girl went to nod only to stop, _'Thank you,'_ she said her voice roughened and hoarse after her ordeal._ 'What is your name young one?'_ Apolline asked gently._ 'Hermione,'_ came the reply, slightly clearer, slightly louder.

The nun rushed over passing Hermione a wooden goblet of water, _'Drink dear.'_ She then turned to the woman who had helped,_ 'Thank you Madame, you were most kind if there is anything we can do for you.'_ It was then that Hermione had her fill and sat up slowly, spotting the girl standing in the corner, it being a small room that was barely two feet away. _'There is in fact something that I would ask of you Sister. Fleur,'_ her mother's presence was once again commanding when she addressed her daughter. _'Yes Mamman?' 'Keep,_' she attempted to keep the disdain out of her voice as she said the distastefully British name,_ 'Hermione, company while I talk to the sisters._'

Fleur tentatively offered her hand to Hermione who graciously took it despite her curiosity. _'My name is Fleur Delacour,'_ she introduced herself. Hermione who knew something of manners and chivalry brushed her lips against Fleurs' knuckles, leading her to blush prettily, _'It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Fleur, my name is Hermione.' _Fleur chose to bite back the question as to her family name.

It was then that Apolline returned, once again her perfect face distorted by disgust. Sister Marissa who had left with her cleared her throat before motioning to Hermione to speak with her. Hermione frowned going to release Fleur's hand. Panicking Fleur tightened her grasp, a small smile pulled at the edges of her new friend's mouth. After a reassuring squeeze, Hermione assured the young lady who had inadvertently done so much for her that she wasn't going to leave her. Apolline Delacour smirked at this, although she wished it weren't so, the young girl unknowingly spoke the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Learning the ropes- Part I**

_Apolline Delacour smirked at this, although she wished it weren't so, the girl unknowingly spoke the truth._

The silence pressed heavily on Hermione's ears waking the young girl from her impromptu slumber. The last thing she recalled was being led a short distance from the orphanage by Madame Delacour. This, she recalled, was after Sister Marissa had informed her that she was now to stay with her. Although the older Delacour had not been overly warm it had not perturbed the young girl as she had never truly experienced any. However she was intelligent and had realised that Madame Delacour's speech was more commanding and clipped than the nuns.

For the second time that day the young girl's brow furrowed. This was not a common occurrence as Hermione was exceptionally bright for one with limited resources and so rarely found something complex enough to puzzle her.

While her mind remained occupied trying to ascertain Madame Delacour's motivation for taking her in her body struggled to accustom itself to the surface upon which she was currently resting. The dark surrounding her was not one that she was familiar with having slept in a room that was in disrepair with seven other children. There light always found a way to creep in even with the thick fumes and pollution that were found in the city.

Hermione may have been more at ease had she been on a surface that was not raised and less suffocating. In the orphanage the mat they had slept on had been just that, much akin in comfort to one used for gymnastics, not the thick squishy ones but the flat hard ones, not that Hermione could make that distinction having never really being anywhere other than the orphanage and surrounding streets. To add to her discomfort a rather heavy duvet had been placed over the young girl.

At this her thoughts regarding her placement in this unforeseen circumstance ceased. Still none the wiser she began to take further stock of her surroundings. It was then that she realised she was not alone. This had been unsurprisingly easy to miss given the tendency of the children in the orphanage to stick together for comfort. The similarities in predicament however stopped there.

Curled beside her was Fleur. Unsure as to what she should do Hermione lay frozen. Luckily or perhaps unluckily for her, it was then that Apolline Delacour decided to make an appearance.

At the sharp inhale of breath Hermione sat bolt upright and scrambled rapidly from the bed stumbling and hitting the floor rather heavily on her knees. Looking up she saw the look of suppressed anger on the woman's face. At this she rapidly lowered her eyes and spotted, in the corner a pillow and throw. Having deduced the arrangement s that had been made for her realization dawned on the child. Cautiously Hermione stood, eyes remaining downcast for fear of meeting Madame Delacour's gaze.

Although the half-Veela approved of this, that did not excuse the filth's previous actions._ 'Come here child,'_ she snapped, not raising her voice but the authority in it was enough that it sent a shiver of fear through the young girl. The girl carefully walked forwards, not scurrying but clearly understanding the unspoken order to make haste. As the child was coming to a stop, Apolline firmly back-handed it.

This not only snapped Hermione's head back but also sent her careening to the floor. _'You will learn to be grateful and not take advantage of this coven's generosity. Let this be a lesson to you not to try my patience again.'_ It was said so coldly Hermione wished she could sink into the floor and seemed to be attempting to do so. The girl didn't spare a thought to what the woman by coven and merely murmured out a, _'Yes Madame.'_

Apolline let out a snarl. _'Speak up! Your station does not excuse you from practising basic social graces.'_ The words were laced with derision.

Hermione knew that it would not bode well for her if she stayed down. Scrambling to her feet, precariously leaning her weight on one leg she raised her gaze to rest slightly below her new guardian's knees. _'I apologise Madame for my error and accept why I was wrong. I will not make the same mistake again.'_ Despite not having consciously done anything wrong and being fairly certain that her fuzzy memory told her she hadn't unconsciously done so either, Hermione decided it was best to be cautious.

Fleur stirred which drew her mother's attention,_ 'For your sake that had better hold true child. Adrienne!'_ At her call a woman in simple garb came through the door head bowed hand clasped before her._ 'Adrienne shall take you to the facilities that you shall use to cleanse yourself and will fit you out in,'_ at this she paused, _'suitable clothing.'_

It was clear to Hermione by both her use of the word cleanse and the connotations attached to it that she did not think much of her. This along with the insinuations about her current clothing did not help her puzzlement, however she meekly replied, _'Thank you Madame,'_ this time making sure to speak clearly as she could.

At this Adrienne turned to leave the room indicating that Hermione should follow.

Apolline stared after them, eyes narrowed. She did not trust the girl, nor did she like her however it seemed that she would learn her place quickly. If not she would be put it in it and learn to assume it.

With that last, Apolline left her daughter and the room swiftly not looking back. In her mind at that moment she should be grateful that she was left to her rest. After all it was for her that the filth would be residing with the coven.

**A/N To anyone that reads this story I apologise for it being rushed or otherwise and as always appreciate any feedback as it can only make me better. Long-live constructive criticism! May it forever keep snakes from the Emerald Isle.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N I will address three points quickly that keep coming up. At this time Apolline believes Hermione to be muggle. Hermione is not French and finally I am aware that Fleur hasn't been terribly well characterized, her role shall very much be backseat until we get further into the thick of things. This is predominately Hermione's story.**

**Edit: I just realized that contrary to what I said in the first chapter I do own some of the characters just not the ones attached to JK and the Harry Potter realm. I have also made the decision to change the story name due to another story for the same fandom under the same name.**

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Chapter Three: Learning the ropes- Part II

_In her mind at that moment she should be grateful that she was left to her rest. After all it was for her that the filth would be residing with the coven._

Although Hermione had discovered herself miraculously free of injuries after her fight with Phillipe and had rested briefly, already she was reverting to her earlier state. Mentally sapped, physically weary and with bruises taking their sweet time flowering. As Adrienne had led her through the exuberant house to a much simpler wing of what could have been a castle, Hermione's eyes had widened reflexively. Despite the fact that at this time nothing was really registering, she would later realize that all she observed had remained in her memory for perusal at her leisure.

From the way Adrienne was explaining things however she doubted there would be much leisure to enjoy. Not that Hermione particularly minded. Keeping busy prevented boredom and frustration building, this suited the young girl just fine as she had anger in abundance without being aggravated by a lack of things to do. During the fight with Phillipe, she had somehow managed to keep a lid on it even though she was sure that it showed in her body language.

She decided that whatever Adrienne had to say would prove important. For this reason Hermione made a conscious effort to take it on board now so that later she could turn it over when all technical points had been made clear.

"_As mate to a Delacour, especially the granddaughter of their leader, you will be expected to cater to any and all of the Veela's requests without exception. If you are asked to do something that you are not comfortable with, you are to do it anyway. If you have anything to say you are to hold your tongue unless acknowledging one of their number with the correct honorific attached. Clear so far?" _Adrienne was soft spoken and although slightly brusque in her manner spoke not unkindly to her.

Hermione responded with a slight duck of her head,_ "Yes Madame." _Adrienne turned back to her with a horrified look upon her face as though she had been struck, much like she herself had not too long ago. "_You are not to address me as such! The trouble it would cause the both of us.." _at this she shuddered, "_it does not bear thinking about." _ Hermione's brow creased slightly, "_Well then what am I to call you?"_

The expression on her mentor's face softened. She realised that the young girl was likely confused. She had been shocked when she was shown the girl that was to be the newest member of, for lack of a better word, the staff. Having experienced similar problems when she had first arrived it wasn't difficult to see where Hermione was coming from. As the girl appeared well read and had not once questioned her as to the meaning of what she had said Adrienne decided that she would be able to quickly grasp the concept of their role and circumstances. "_You may call me Chauvin. It was my family name. None of the mates are may call any by their first names, or refer to ourselves as such. It is a reminder I would suppose." _It was clear the girl was slightly shocked by the revelation and was finally beginning to get a grasp on the situation she had found herself thrust into. "_Later I shall explain more and provide you with a tour of the areas in the house you are permitted and required to know. For now shower and change into the clothes that I have given you." _ As she finished her sentence she opened a door that they had stopped in front of ushering the girl in and closing it behind her.

Hermione now registered that she had been carrying an identical set of clothes to the ones that Adrienne was wearing. Her mind reeled, not remembering when she had been presented with them. Quickly she washed herself the best she could, having never really been given the chance before, with hot water and lightly fragranced soap. The warm water, a rare commodity at the orphanage, one which she could clearly recall only having access to twice, helped to relax her sore body and perk her up slightly. Stepping out she dried herself well before donning the simple undergarments, dress and apron. Hermione tied her hair back with a plain black bobbin that had been left with them. Looking in the mirror she was surprised to find sunken eyes set above hollowed cheeks staring back. The consequences of her encounter with Apolline showed in a split lip alongside the darkening bruise. Her bones were clearly pronounced and the clothes fit her as well as a cloth sack.

Deciding it wouldn't do to dally any further she exited the bathroom. A cursory inspection of her surroundings and she spotted Adrienne who had her back turned. Frowning slightly she discovered that Adrienne unlike herself was wearing a pair of shoes. Worn and beaten ones at that but more than she had. Adrienne spun around just as she was working up the courage to inquire about the privilege. However, that wish quickly subsided when she recalled the lesson that Apolline had taught her.

Adrienne quickly ran her eyes over the girl taking in her wet hair and more than ill-fitting clothes. Without warning she set about adjusting the way the clothes sat on her young charge. Once more she ran a critical eye over her appearance appraising her. "_Come. We shall get food and I will have one of the others tailor your clothes and dry your hair. Soon you will have to learn to mend your own clothing but for now _ will do it for you. I shall fill you in on the rest over the course of our meal and for the time that I can spare after." _With that she turned once again on her heel and briskly began walking once more, Hermione trailing after.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Those of you who are reading and perhaps even enjoying this fic may thank my temporary bout of insomnia for the extra chapter today and the fact that I am posting this story at all instead of waiting until next August to begin.**

**Edit: To answer my dear Guest reviewer, yes all those working in the house are mates. It isn't how I originally planned it but it is how it worked out.**

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Chapter Four: Learning the ropes - Part III

_"I shall fill you in on the rest over the course of our meal and for the time that I can spare after." With that she turned once again on her heel and briskly began walking once more, Hermione trailing after._

Even the mates wing was relatively large, although far less extravagant than the rest of the mansion. As such it took the two close to quarter of an hour to reach their destination. Along the way Hermione observed many other of the so called Veela 'mates,' this prompted her now active mind to question whether it was synonymous with servants. There was a clear hierarchy, marked by their attire although she had yet to learn what factors influenced the rankings.

_I suppose that is something to think over tonight_. Her thoughts were halted there when once again the two came to a stop. This time in a kitchen more than twice the size of the house in which she grew up. She couldn't bring herself to think of it as a home. Already this place was beginning to feel like it despite the lack of enthusiasm of the Veela. _Which begs the question, what the bloody hell ARE Veela? _Once again she began to work up the courage to ask Adrienne- _no, Chauvin_ - a question and once again she stopped short.

This time it was due to the fact that before her dishes were scrubbing themselves. Her curiosity peaked at this strange sight. Although Hermione had been reading from a young age they were often factual books donated to the orphanage or religious texts that the nuns had loaned her. She had never heard tell of magic. On the adjoining counter sat a chopping board and knife carving a large cooked bird. While she was taking in these new developments, Chauvin had tapped another woman on the shoulder.

She turned to face her with a scowl blowing a strand of hair from her face and continued whisking the egg whites for the meringues. Upon discovering that it was Chauvin her scowl faded replaced by a furrowed brow after she rolled her eyes. "_Yes? What is it?_"

Chauvin cast her gaze around for the girl before she found her, "_Hermione, come." _ Swivelling around Hermione made her way over. "_Meet Marcel Ducat. Of course you are to address her as Ducat." _

At this Ducat cocked a brow. It was common knowledge in the Delacour residence that mates were only allowed to call others by their surname. Ducat's expression softened seeing the girl attempting to decipher her surprise. She wondered who the poor child was fated to be mated with. As it was it was clear that Hermione was not the girl's surname having seen Shakespeare as a child. She sent a look at Chauvin clearly indicating that she would later be grilled for an explanation. After she received a subtle nod of acquiescence, she returned her attention to the child. Having finished with the sugar she silently summoned the vanilla adding it to the mix before continuing to whisk.

She allowed herself to run her eyes over the child properly, surprised at the clear markings on her face and the ginger way she held herself. Ducat gave a terse nod. _"Hello."_ She would be lying if she told the girl she was happy to meet her. She couldn't bring herself to be happy for anyone who landed in this situation let alone a babe who had already experienced too much of a hard world if her appearance was any indication.

Once more her gaze landed back on Chauvin. _"What has happened? What is it you need?" _Chauvin had the decency to look uncomfortable even as she drew herself up to her full height. "_The girl,"_ came the reply, _"I require your assistance in speeding up your recovery." _Ducat was beginning to understand. "_Take a seat child, I will see to you once the meringues are in the oven." _

Despite the fact that she could easily have spelled it there, she took the opportunity to breathe, to compose herself. She gave herself more time by washing her hands and drying them on a rag.

Hermione watched this woman, who like herself was not wearing shoes, or socks for that matter. She spotted a mark on the back of her thigh but before she could identify it she found herself caught.

Ducat was puzzled as to why the girl was looking at her so quizzically. Then it dawned on her. She glared accusingly at Chauvin who merely raised her chin in false bravado. She had not yet learned why she was there. Not truly. Internally Ducat was horrified that she had been lead into this blind, externally she displayed only frustration and exasperation. She knelt before Hermione, placing work roughened hands on her wounds while reciting healing spells. Even though she had ignored it the woman's worry only became exacerbated when Hermione flinched. She continued anyway.

When she was finished she rocked back on her heels and stood. _"Are you feeling any better child?" _She asked this gently so as not to startle her. A thoughtful look graced her features as the child nodded, _"Thank you Ducat_." A genuine smile curled one corner of her lips before she turned once more to Chauvin sending her a terse nod. "_If that is all," _with that she turned on her heel and returned to her cooking, trying not to give too much thought to the girl. She sensed that her life would be harder than most and wondered what it was she had experienced when she touched her. For a second her pupils had dilated and taken on an orange hue only to return back to their original size and colour a split second later. She wondered whether she had imagined it. _Not my business, not my place, _she reasoned, shaking her head to clear it of her thoughts. If she returned to her work more zealously with the intention of forgetting, no one noticed. Or if they did, none commented.

...

Chauvin once more led Hermione from the kitchen back almost the whole way out of the wing they were currently in silently. She preceded the girl into the small chamber closing the door firmly behind her once she had entered. The room was occupied only by a simple bed. Although she was not yet old enough to know the significance of the sparse furnishing or the single room, she felt a pang of guilt in her heart knowing what was to come in the years that followed. _"This is to be your room, you are to remain here until I retrieve you in the morning." _

Hermione nodded her understanding as her mentor left. She lay back with the intention of sorting through the day in mind however she couldn't think for tiredness and discomfort. Not only was the bed far more than she was used to, her stomach protested at the lack of even the meagre portions of food it usually received. It seemed that in all the tension between Ducat and Chauvin, the promise of a meal had been forgotten. Shrugging it off, having gone longer without sustenance, Hermione slipped onto the floor taking the blanket with her. She curled up beneath it, with the knowledge that tomorrow things would be made clear, she never realised that she had fallen asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N I want to thank everyone for being awesome, reading, reviewing and the like. I love having your input.**

**To my guest reviewers: You should really get accounts so I can talk more with yous!**

**Lily: Well I hope that you gain some insight through this chapter as well but if you have any questions you'd like addressed then go for it.**

**OOOO: I'm glad you find it interesting, hoping you like this update!**

**As you may have figured by now, if you review and have an account I will PM a reply but at times it may be necessary to let people know what has been said for the sake of the story. So without further ado, here is an extract from my reply to Renu's latest review.**

**Renu: To answer your review the mark is dun dun dun! Yes Ducat can be her pseudo mam. No to the second because that unfortunately wouldn't fit and I can try for bittersweet if that makes it any better? It was going that way anyway. **

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Chapter five: The technicalities of being mated to Veela - Part I

_She curled up beneath, it with the knowledge that tomorrow things would be made clear, she never realised that she had fallen asleep._

Hermione always had been a light sleeper. At least while she had been residing at the orphanage. Seen as that was the only time she could remember she felt perfectly comfortable with always, _it fits after all, why bother worrying about technicalities?_

For this reason she was surprised, when it was only upon Chauvin's entry to the room that she woke. Hermione bolted upright out of shock and habit. Having stayed in the orphanage with a strong religious ethos, the children were regularly roused early to wash with rags and water from the pump before morning mass was held by a local parish priest.

Hermione had observed enough the day prior to have come to the conclusion that Chauvin was valued by Apolline and – she presumed – in extension, by the other Veela. She blinked, again coming to the realisation that she still hadn't a clue as to who or what the Veela were. The what, came into play after the display she had encountered with Ducat the previous day. Despite the short time spent in the older woman's company and the limited interaction between them, already fondness accompanied the memory.

Chauvin simply stood watching the young girl, her brow furrowed, eye's not glazed but clearly her mind wasn't there. She was curious as to why the girl lay on the floor as opposed to the bed that had been provided. It didn't appear that she had rolled off in the night, the sheets were still crisp as when they were placed on it.

Hermione then remembered why she was sitting up. Standing she folded her blanket and placed it on the bed before facing Chauvin.

Without preamble Chauvin began to speak, enough time had been wasted. "_Come there is much to be done. First you must wash. Leave the clothes on the floor of the shower room, inside you will find all the toiletries you may require along with a towel to dry yourself with. Be quick and thorough." _Her nose wrinkled slightly when she worked out that the girl had slept in her clothes.

Hermione wondered if her brisk manner had anything to do with Apolline's clear preference of her. Internally she shook her head. Although Ducat was gentle with her, she could tell that disruption to the flow of things would not be tolerated. _"Of course Chauvin. I will be brief." It wouldn't do to get on the wrong side of her, _Hermione thought, not for the first time. She had noticed the woman's less than pleasant appraisal of her. With that, she left to use the facilities.

...

Like the previous day she found herself in the kitchen and like before Ducat was there. Her lip quirked upon seeing her again.

Ducat could not suppress the small smile that graced her features, a genuine one towards this young girl. _So much that she doesn't know, so much with which she will required to deal._ Although this put a slight damper on her mood she did not allow this to show. Even the girl didn't notice adept as she was at reading emotion and character. She recalled that her name was Hermione but decided to simply address her as child. _It will cause her less trouble, perhaps she will trust me, allow me to guide her. _Ducat's gaze flickered to Chauvin again. Her face returned to it's blank, bordering on stony setting. _Perhaps I can take on the child as an apprentice._

Chauvin noticed Ducat looking in her direction. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. It seemed there would be more trouble with this bastard than she had hoped. Apolline had informed her of the girl's heritage, what was known of it at any rate. The mother conceived the child with another man out of wedlock. When it came to light that the child could not be that of her husband as he was infertile, she had been left on the doorstep of the orphanage, a bastard. A note had explained the circumstance of her birth and the decision given the husband wouldn't raise another man's spawn. _Rightly so, _she thought bitterly. This Apolline had learned when she spoke with the head sister in charge. Originally she had tried to dismiss her mate's qualms, only to herself of course, to do otherwise would invite.. nothing that would be any good. Besides she knew her place. Fortunately she had been instructed what to do should the need arise. _"Hermione! Sit while food is organised for you," _Chauvin snapped.

Ducat's eyes widened slightly. She knew what this meant for the girl. Raising her chin slightly she vowed silently to do all she could to teach, protect and care for the child. With Chauvin openly declaring her view of the girl - _no doubt that of her mate _- things were going to become still more difficult. She could never predict how true this would be but even with what she envisaged, it was more than most could cope with. However she would do right by this child, make her strong.

Hermione jumped. While Chauvin had never been overly warm towards her there had at least been civility between them. Now however there was only thinly veiled hostility. Her gaze met that of the older woman. Cold and closed off. Finally it clicked in her mind. Madame Delacour was her mated Veela! She scoffed inwardly, _youth is no excuse, how could I have missed this?_

Ducat observed the exchange, strategically placing herself between her senior and the child. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, knowing what this display of insubordination would mean however she stood tall. Gently but firmly she clasped the girls shoulder. _"Come child let's find you something to eat." _She spoke softly trying to convey her support to the young girl before her, the one that had clearly seen hardship and would see yet more.

Hermione tilted her head back slightly to look at the woman, who it appeared, was to take her under her wing. She nodded, slowly but without hesitation. "_Thank you Ducat," _she enunciated clearly. As Ducat steered her away she took one last glance at Chauvin and the fire burning in her eyes before gathering her resolve and staring forward. She knew this snub would not go unnoticed, and if her second encounter with Apolline Delacour was anything to go by, it would not go unpunished.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N I hope this chapter clears up some of your questions, however I attempted to refrain from revealing too much. Where is the fun in that? **

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**Chapter 6: The technicalities of being mated to Veela – Part II**

_She knew this snub would not go unnoticed, and if her second encounter with Apolline Delacour was anything to go by, it would not go unpunished._

After the simple meal of bread and soup, Ducat led the child to a multi-purpose room. She knew it would not be long before trouble found them. Despite this she was determined to give the girl a grounding in some of the more crucial intricacies of life with Veela. She had no doubt the girl would pick up the rest.

Again she scanned her young charge. She would need some work, with bones protruding and her petite stature. Waving her wand she summoned a basket containing sewing basic supplies.

While this was going on Hermione took the chance to take in her surroundings. The room was furnished with several simple wooden tables and chairs, a fireplace, a blackboard and a short three legged stool. From a press in the corner a wicker basket came flying in their direction. Having already seen similar she was no longer surprised by such an occurrence.

Ducat having caught the supplies observed the girl with mild amusement. "_It's magic child." _

Hermione nodded not understanding but not questioning the statement either.

"_Come," _too busy trying not to think, Ducat didn't notice this, rather odd reaction from a child. She indicated the school that now stood beside her. Once the girl was up she immediately set a tape measure to work. She pinned and stitched and cut until she was satisfied with the fit on the child.

Hermione flung herself at her mentor. Now not only had she clean, fairly new clothes, but they fit as well! More than she had ever hoped for. Back in the orphanage, there was no such thing as clean clothes. The dirt had practically become part of the fabric, she feared what would happen if it were washed out. Quite possibly it was the only thing holding it together. She wouldn't have been surprised. New and fitting was a joy to have. Never before could she remember such luxury.

Ducat was glad the girl was happy, could only imagine what her life was before that she would find this to be an improvement. But she also knew that it didn't come without a price. She dreaded when she would have to ask the council for permission to apprentice the child, that didn't even begin to hold a candle to what Apolline had planned. She made a mental note to fix the child's other clothes and to try and sneak substantial sustenance, such as meat and fresh vegetables into her diet.

Hermione enjoyed the comfort and warmth afforded by this simple act. She pulled back as Ducat set her down.

The older woman smiled gently, _"Sit. There are some things we must discuss. If you have any questions the time is now, however I would ask that you not interrupt for there is much you must know." _Already Ducat had made the decision not to hold back anything regarding her predicament from the child.

Hermione seated herself at one of the tables as Ducat put back the supplies. She straightened when she positioned herself opposite her.

"_Firstly would you like anything with which to write down any questions you have so that you do not forget?" _

"_I don't know how to."_

Ducat was shocked. _"Can you read?" _The girl nodded in response slowly her eyes lowered. The sight was heart breaking, as she was rapidly beginning to think of the girl as her own. It sent a pang of pain through her, because she knew what her own were like and what they thought of her. She wasn't even sure whether they knew they were hers- but that was beside the point, she couldn't allow herself to be side tracked. The most she could do was give this child a good life.

"_Alright, here's what we'll do." _ She drew out from within her clothes a feather. She chuckled lightly at the girls sceptical look. _"This is a quill, it is pre-inked much like a muggle pen. If you suck on the end, the nib, it will take on your personality in terms of thoughts and jot down any questions that you come up with. Not all quills are like this and once you have learned to write you will use one even more similar to a pen."_

Hermione marvelled at this and the woman who was being so kind to her. She was in awe and extremely grateful, _"Thank you!" _So excited was she in fact that her exclamation came out more of a squeak than anything else.

Ducat suppressed a sad smirk at the enthusiasm before her. _If only things had been- but no. "We must get on with it now," _she said this part out loud without meaning to. However since it fit the situation, there was no suspicion on the part of, what she knew must be and exceptionally bright young girl. Again she reached inside her clothes and pulled out a roll of parchment. "_Balance the quill on its end," _she instructed.

Hermione did as she was told.

"_Come let us begin. To start, this is Delacour Castle. Since the Delacour coven was established they have resided here. Don't think of them as an organization, rather as a large extended family. This is in keeping with Veela tradition. Although we are mated to those within the coven, we remain outsiders. The coven comprises of many, for this reason there is a hierarchy, which we will get to later. In Veela society, the Delacour coven are the ruling class, outside of this they are a large and influential family. They hold sway in both the Muggle and the Wizarding world." _Here she paused briefly and took a swig from a flask attached to her belt. "_Questions so far?" _

Hermione glanced at the parchment. Her attention had been captivated by Ducat. Eyebrows raised upon seeing the questions written down. They were worded exactly as she had thought them. She decided then and there this, magic, was a force to be reckoned with. The ones that had been answered during the talk were struck through. Only one other had written itself over the course of the conversation. "_What is muggle?"_

Ducat was prepared for this, "_Muggles are none magic folk. It is a term the magical community use to refer to them, although there are much more derogatory ones." _

Hermione nodded and indicated for her to continue.

Once more she took a swallow from the flask, before continuing. "_Veela are of creature blood, that of a magical nature. They appear for the most part as beautiful women although when circumstances call for it or need is dire they transform. You don't want to ever experience a Veela transformation. It is not an easy feat for them to revert, their rage is legendary even in human form. _

"_Veela mate with humans, muggle or wizard. It helps to strengthen the bloodline. Veela are always full Veela. They mate with only one for life. When a Veela dies so does its mate. For the most part, unless they are mortally wounded the Veela will always die first. However because of both their magical heritage and creature blood, they have a life span extended beyond that of a muggle. Being mated to one affords you the same benefit. _

"_The Veela hierarchy is similar to that of a wolf pack. The alpha is at the top followed by the beta, they are usually the first born child of the alpha. The next level is the rest of the council. They have no real name other than council member. All other Veela are then on an equal footing until such time as there is a promotion or otherwise." _Here she paused and motioned to the child to ask her questions.

This time Hermione noticed, there were a number. _"Are Veela always female? Are their mates? If so how do they reproduce?" _(one of the books donated to the orphanage was a biology textbook)The questions ran like a stream.

Ducat once again took a swallow from the flask. She grimaced, not only because of the rather sizeable amount that she had downed, but also because of the child. _"Yes and yes to the first two. That is something that you will discover in time to the third.__"_

Hermione pondered this. She could see the logic, albeit frustrating.

Ducat stood. _"All else, it is not my place to say. Much you will learn yourself, the rest I am not permitted to tell. That right only belongs to Veela." _She signalled the girl to stand. _"Let us go. There are many things that must be done."_ The main reason being the time. It would not do to remain here when the influx of other mates would be carrying out jobs for their mates. Nor would it do to bump into any Veela at this time. They would surely be on the prowl under orders of the council or worse and more likely, the direction of Apolline Delacour.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: The '**_**only females are'**_** has significance for later. Remember that detail, it's mildly important to the plotline. Patience is a virtue I am told. We are under 10K into this story, all your questions will be answered in due course but don't stop asking them because it may be something I haven't thought of or have over looked. Bear with me here. If I think I can answer without giving away too much of the plot I will do.**

**Lily: Fleur is nine (see chapter one). Yes Hogwarts exists but it's irrelevant right now. To the last, the purpose is procreation. The other questions shall be answered in due course.**

**Edit: To OOOO thank you so much for pointing out the Cécile/ Céline thing, I hadn't noticed. I think I have now rectified this. For this assistance I shall answer your review in this chapter rather than the next. I apologise for the shortness of updates but I can't hack reading long chapters so I refuse to write them although if the story gets long I will probably stitch short chapters together especially ones that are extensions of each other. Fleur will eventually be addressed but it's only been a few days since Hermione is moved in. You are right of course. Thanks again.**

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Chapter seven: Meeting the Veela- Part I (An altercation of the unpleasant sort)

_Nor would it do to bump into any Veela at this time. They would surely be on the prowl under orders of the council or worse and more likely, the direction of Apolline Delacour._

Unfortunately, as fate would have it, there was no avoiding the inevitable. One might argue sooner rather than later but in this case prolonging the wait would be much preferred. Despite her careful planning Ducat was unable to prevent the child's first encounter with Veela- barring Apolline and her daughter of course- and it could not have gone worse. _Stop thinking like that! Do you want to invite more onto yourself and the child? _Ducat squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the base of her palms against them as she sat perched on the edge of her bed remembering the disaster of a day so far. That was probably the biggest worry. The day wasn't over yet.

_Together they had been preparing lunch for the Veela. Ducat set the girl several menial tasks that she didn't think would be too demanding or unfair to the child. Ducat searched the cupboards for potatoes before realising that in the 'excitement,' of the previous day, the kitchen store hadn't been replenished. (Looking back on it, she chastised herself for not simply summoning more, no matter that her intention had been to bury her worry in physical work) Looking around quickly she caught the eye of another witch with whom she had a cordial working relationship. Nodding she exited the room, knowing Jean would watch the girl while she was gone._

_However she had neglected to tell the girl. (How this may have helped Hermione, she didn't understand. When Ducat later apologised she simply looked at her quizzically before asking what this would have changed.) _

_She came back to find the girl held by her arms behind her back by one while another Veela had her by the chin forcing her to maintain eye contact and hissed something at her. Ducat didn't hold the inaction of any of the mates against them. While not a death wish, some would argue it's not much better. To intercede on the behalf of another, especially where the Veela are concerned, is inviting trouble. _

_Although knowing what it would mean for her and the child- not that there was any way it could get worse for the child, having already committed rather serious infractions-_

Ducat was jerked out of her reminiscence by the door opening. Initially she thought her reaction was only so profound because she was hyperaware after the events that took place prior. Drawing her hands away from her face though, her heart dropped into her stomach realising the truth of the moment. It was with a mixture of fear, dread and love that she gazed upon the entrant. Her Veela. Say what you want about Apolline Delacour, in her mind Cécile was the most beautiful of the coven. As it should be, for this was the bond between mates.

Her heart ached. It had been several months since she had last set eyes upon her mate.

"Bonjour ma chérie," her voice dripped with a seductive quality not all that different to the one that had originally enchanted the young Marcel as an emerging adult. Being Veela her beauty and her nature had not diminished in the slightest. None of it.

Ducat averted her gaze, finding a peeling corner of wallpaper fascinating as she responded, "Bonjour Madame Delacour."

Cécile tsked, striking her before grabbed her chin and raising it none too gently. "_There will be no need for that. You will look me in the eye when I am talking to you," _her tone was a cross between condescending and sickly sweet.

Steeling herself Marcel responded, "_Yes Madame." _It came out close to a whisper, hesitant in contrast to her usually strong conviction.

"That is better," once more her mate had reverted to English. Curious though she was, Marcel did her best to still her tongue, unsure what her mate's reaction would be to being questioned. "Come ma petite chou, it has not been so long that I have forgotten you, I know you.. intimately," here she stalled having reverted back to her seductive speech. "You wish to know why I speak in the English, oui?"

Knowing it would be hazardous to her health and potentially hurtful to her love Marcel did not point out that her speech was more 'franglais' than English. Rather she nodded cautiously, Cécile having loosened her grip slightly.

"I would have thought it were obvious. I am here to speak about Hermione," at this Ducat shivered slightly flinching, for a split second her eyes closed before quickly realising the trouble it could cause, the punishment it would bring.

Cécile's eyes narrowed ever so slightly before a smirk spread slowly across her face and she cocked her head slightly to one side. "So, you care for this enfant," she spat out enfant as though it were an insult to all children that the child was considered one. "_Tell me my dear, what would you give me?"_

Ducat's brow furrowed slightly, not noticing the switch back so confused was she by the question, "_Madame?"_

At this Cécile stepped away turning her back on her mate, knowing the effect it would have on her. The worry and tension that would be building inside her Marcel. "_What would you give me? Hmm? For the little English bastard?" _At this she turned around again and pressed her back to the door of the small cell. So small was it that should she wish she could reach out and touch her mate. She did, but no, she must come to her. It was the way of things.

Ducat had dreaded this. She dropped to her knees before her mate, head bowed. She knew that she would be excused. That Cécile liked her to beg. She kept her gaze on her knees. It wasn't fair. The child had done nothing wrong. She was young and brilliant, undeserving of the prejudice she was being subjected to. The Veela treated her like crap and she hadn't even shown a trace of magical ability that normally would lead to this. Silently she pleaded with the child to forgive her. It was for her sake that she was doing this. Reaching up she grasped her mates hand and met her gaze.

Cécile had one eyebrow cocked, either amused or interested, likely both. The desperation in her Marcel's eyes was clear.

"_If.." _she paused voice raspy, "_if the Veela council were to permit me to apprentice the child, to teach her.." _Again she halted.

Taking pity Cécile softened her words, "_give me an offer my dear and I will see to it she is properly educated as well." _She saw the effect this had on her mate who practically quaked.

Ducat knew what this could mean for the girl. It would give her the best possible chance. To do that though, the price.. no she had sworn to care for her, no price was too great. "_I," _she cleared her throat and once more lowered her gaze, rocking slightly to comfort herself, _"I will give you another child." _She froze. It was done, now she could only hope.

At this Cécile raised both eyebrows, her jaw dropping slightly. This was unexpected. The ultimate price really. She was surprised at the lengths her Marcel would go to for the bastard. After the last attempt, the miscarriage had shaken her beyond anything. Marcel had been heartbroken and refused to have another. It didn't matter what she did to her, punishment, pleading, nothing. Eventually their contact had lessened to once every few months. Before the last there had been nearly half a year. Five years on, not once had her stubborn Marcel's resolve been shaken, but now..

Marcel tucked her chin into her chest and wept silent tears. Her fists were clenched on her lap, fingers no longer fidgeting.

The offer had come as a shock but her heart swelled for the pain of her mate. Cécile knelt before her, taking her hands in her own waiting for her Marcel to look up. In her eyes she could see the raw emotion. She gently wiped away her tears and brought their joined hands to her lips. Letting go, she rose to her feet and extended a hand.

Ducat's eyes followed her mate's progress. "_Come my love," _she heard the words spoken as though through water. Feeling broken she shed fresh tears, as she stood she wiped them away. No more would she cry.

Together they walked from the room with the knowledge that Ducat would not be returning for some time.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Sorry for the wait guys and the mediocre if not poor chapter but I had to put out something before I lost all motivation to continue. I will revisit this chapter when I have more time. I can't promise that it will happen any time before December but I will endeavour improve on the chapter and eventually the story as a whole. **

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Chapter eight: An altercation of the unpleasant sort- Part II (Meeting the Veela)

_Together they walked from the room with the knowledge that Ducat would not be returning for some time. _

Hermione gasped as she came to. At first, nothing was clear. Only disjointed thoughts and clips of events were available to her frantically working mind. Eyes heavy with lethargy, she drifted back into an unsettling rest. It was in the land of dreams that she began to remember.

_Hindsight is a bitch, she would think in later years. For now however she simply regretted engaging the Veela. Of course they would sneer and attempt to provoke her. Why would they not when their leader, their alpha, had less regard for her than the mud below her boots_. _It came to her in flashes. The pot and its contents overturned, the false sympathy, the insults, the venomously sweet inflection they placed on her name, her retaliation, being lifted from her feet-_

Again she jerked awake. This time her panic turning to the plight of Ducat. The woman who had been nothing but nice to her, a mother of sorts.

It would be six months before she saw Ducat. By that time the damage had been done.

…..

It seemed the kitchen was a magnet for the unlikely pair.

One day Hermione went to take her breakfast, the next a familiar form stood resting against the same counter she had first seen. A sense of déjà vu and melancholy washed over the young girl. Much too intense for a child at that age. A creased brow greeted her across the kitchen.

Ducat noticed the girl. Subconsciously a smile crept across her features. Gently she turned to set down the mixing bowl behind her. The food could wait, she had a daughter to attend to. At this her hand in a knee-jerk reaction to the thought protectively lay on her belly. Having caught herself in time, Ducat made a motion as though ironing out the creases in her well- worn uniform and picking off imaginary lint. She extended her arms to the child, that brilliant, beautiful girl.

Hermione threw caution to the wind. Although her curiosity demanded an explanation and logic dictated that the woman was still a stranger, a warm and fuzzy feeling overwhelmed the detached nature of intellect to replace it with care and familial love.

The collision almost threw her off balance before small wan arms, strong thought they were it sent a feeling of inadequacy through her. That there was more she could have- should have done for the child.

She nuzzled herself into the warmth of Ducat's comforting embrace. Hermione had missed this simple pleasure.

Ducat withdrew her arms before putting her charge in front of her, close enough to keep contact and far enough to inspect for good health. As Hermione casually brushed her growing bangs back from her eyes, Ducat caught sight of the one thing she had dreaded and knew her mate hadn't power over. There, wrapped around her thumb, above her wrist, in a spot damn near impossible to hide was the mark. This cemented the girl's fate. No more would there be any opportunity for her to leave mated or not. It was binding. Similar in nature to a contract, although not many are burned into their skin.

Ducat's biggest concern was the positioning of the mark. Appoline Delacour was leaving nothing to chance. The stylised Gothic 'D' that symbolised ownership of a Veela from the Delacour clan had been placed so that all would know what she was. Never before had Ducat seen one so blatantly displayed before. The ramifications it would have- it didn't bear thinking of.

"_Come child, help me to finish the food and then we can talk," _with voice cracking and rough from disuse she successfully postponed what would be a very unpleasant conversation.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N I have updated the last chapter adding something of an ending to it (so go back and read it again if you have already) although I am still not satisfied. I will revisit this story when I get the chance but considering it won't be like I said for a good while, here's another other chapter that is slightly better. It's basically a whole load of fluffy gooey family stuffs. I dedicate this chapter to Renu who has helped keep me motivated and contributes suggestions which I very much appreciate.**

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Chapter nine: The improvement of young fortunes- the good fortunes of youth part I

"_Come child, help me to finish the food and then we can talk," with voice cracking and rough from disuse she successfully postponed what would be a very unpleasant conversation._

Of course that only lasted so long (two days) before she was forced into conceding to the child. In the relative safety of her chambers she introduced her lion to her angel, her little Gabrielle. Thankfully, with the dominant Veela gene- despite blonde hair and blue eyes being recessive- she, like all daughters born to a Veela shared in the heritage. At times Ducat found it ironic that none of these features were found in the mates to the Delacour clan. As though to encourage the idea that opposites attract.

She brushed her own walnut bangs back as she spoke with Hermione quietly while tending to her latest baby. As hazel eyes changed between brown and green boring into chocolate brown eyes she found a vulnerability that caused her breath to catch in her chest. Glancing down once more at the now slumbering young life cradled in her arms she knew what she should, could and would do. For the first time in a while, they all happened to be the same thing.

….

Hermione was on the alert as her bedroom door crept open. Having recently developed a rather severe and persistent headache, she had been confined to bed rest by – of all people- Appoline herself. Still she wasn't about to argue, much as she would have liked to it would have been of benefit to no one and certainly not herself.

As the swung shut slowly again she caught a hint of raspberries, grass and honey on the draught.

Hermione allowed herself a small smirk into her covers as she was mostly hidden from view. All Gaby would see is her nest of hair sprawled across the pillow. Now that she knew who she was dealing with and what to expect she became more attuned to the little sounds and motions that her god daughter made.

Somehow it had successfully been kept secret from all but her mothers, her godmother and herself. This time she would manage to surprise her "Tante." However as per usual when she reached out towards the blankets they were thrown back and she was hauled in and attacked with tickles. A strangle _eep! _escaped. She had been so sure.

Hermione eventually relented and turned to cuddle the now two year old child. It was a game they had played since she began to walk and developed her inquisitive and bubbly personality. That said she could be fierce when she wanted to which landed Hermione to take punishment in her stead over and over again. Surprisingly, the Veela council had yet to ban her involvement with the toddler. Perhaps Appoline simply found Hermione's pain too enjoyable to resist for any reason.

Not that she was complaining of course, she absolutely adored her godchild and doted on her, she had passed on both her adventurous spirit and thirst for knowledge. When she got older she knew that she would also to teach her to defend herself.

Gabrielle squirmed out of her grasp having decided that she much preferred sitting on top of her. "_What did you get me?" _Her child like enthusiasm was infectious. _Doesn't look like she'll need much help- _Hermione thought, regarding Gaby's ability.

Hermione grinned when she caught sight of the girls toothy smile. Reaching up with one hand she brushed back several strands of wispy blonde hair behind her ear. Continuing her movement on the same path she reached around the back of her head before withdrawing with a small box.

The young Veela's eyes widened despite having seen many similar and more extravagant displays of magic her whole life – all two years of it so that would explain the continued amazement. It just so happened that it was two years exactly since the day she had been born.

Hermione gently lifted Gaby and positioned her back on top of herself so that she could sit up. Opening the box she removed its contents before clasping it gently in a closed fist, before putting both hands behind her back. "_Guess which hand." _

Gaby's brow furrowed slightly and she pouted as she contemplated it. The thoughtful yet childish expression had the older girl supressing a laugh. Deciding to be safe the birthday girl grabbed both of her Aunts arms and brought them in front.

Amused Hermione opened her left hand to display a flower. Blowing gently it revealed a number of butterflies that landed on the Veela's nose and cheeks causing her to giggle. She then made her hair into a bun and wrapped the flower around to keep it in place. Then opening the other hand she revealed a chain that bore two pendants, a dove holding an olive branch in its beak and a cross. The entire piece was silver to compliment the child's physical appearance.

She put it on and tucked it into the top of Gaby's tshirt.

Suddenly her arms were full and she had nearly been knocked back by a teary comet. "_Thank you Auntie, this is the best present ever."_ Hermione kissed her hair and held her tight for a time before the child finally relented. She then wiped her eyes and kissed both cheeks. "_You are welcome Gaby," _came the soft whisper. This was followed by her once again having her arms full of the little angel.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N So something of a time skip here both in the last chapter and this. And.. quite the gap since I last posted, please don't kill me! Well not if you want to see this ended anyhow. On a side note, thing, yoke-ima-bob, whatyoucallit, I'm looking for a beta, anyone interested? Because I refuse to trawl through lists of people who may or may not accept and may or may not do a worse job than I already am. ONTO THE 'STORY!' :D**

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Chapter 10: Ignorance is both bliss and torment- the good fortunes of youth part II

_Suddenly her arms were full and she had nearly been knocked back by a teary comet. "Thank you Auntie, this is the best present ever." Hermione kissed her hair and held her tight for a time before the child finally relented. She then wiped her eyes and kissed both cheeks. "You are welcome Gaby," came the soft whisper. This was followed by her once again having her arms full of the little angel._

Hermione's eyes were closed, her brow furrowed. Had it been seen out of context one may have simply assumed that she were deep in thought. That was common enough for the young girl after all. However the grimace that followed betrayed her.

The sharp sting of the lash prevented any thought beyond the blinding pain that she experienced. _At least it's getting easier to bear._ She nearly laughed at this notion, would have done too except for the fact that a blow landed at that exact moment, knowing the air out of her in an almost gasp. She choked back the sound as best she could and opened her eyes. Consciously she softened her gaze although she kept up the barriers that wouldn't allow Apolline the satisfaction of seeing how she felt and meting out more lashes for it.

_What has Fleur gotten herself into this time? _Inwardly she felt for the girl but that was buried under feelings of annoyance, hurt and anger. Hermione could see the spark in her mate's mother's eyes. The glint that hinted at displeasure and disgust. As though it were Hermione's fault the floor was being sullied and not her daughter's. _Although, _she mused, _that could be part of it too couldn't it. _

All of a sudden the punishment stopped and she was left hanging as the Veela rounded her dropping the whip to the floor between herself and Apolline, bowing respectfully on her way out. Apolline gave a curt nod, seemingly transfixed on the girl. She had learned to guard herself from the invasive gaze.

"_Until the next time Hermione." _With that she turned on her heel and left. No more was said. No more was required.

Hermione braced herself. She could never be sure when it would happen. This time it was when the door fully closed. Although prepared she was still surprised that it was so short. Apolline must have been a loose cannon before if this didn't relieve her tension. Then again, that she didn't trust herself to deal with her was telling in itself.

Immediately she rose to her feet from where she had collapsed to her knees on the concrete. Waving her hand in a sweeping motion the floor was cleaned. She removed her shirt and incanted two spells, one after another, "_Scourgify! Reparo!" _

Sadly she smiled at the garment before slipping it back over her head. It had been a present.. from Fleur. At this thought her blood began to boil. Why would she continue causing trouble knowing what it did to her? Did she not care at all? She shook her head to clear it. Now was not the time.

She stood straighter before cleaning her slacks. Nothing would ruin this day for Gaby.

…

Ducat smiled upon sensing Hermione's arrival into the work room. The worry turned to tender care. She knew of what the girl had endured although she herself had never been quite as unfortunate. Looking up, the sight caused her chest to swell with pride and sadness. She had grown so much her intellect along with her emotions and physical being gave her the impression of a rather short woman who had seen all of life's miseries and not enough positives.

What was worse she couldn't tell her anything that she wasn't permitted. The bond ensured that. Her mate could only do so much. Her stomach did a half-hearted flip when she thought of Cécile.

Hermione's countenance brightened upon seeing her pseudo-mother and godchild.

Gabrielle having spent so much time with her Tante had picked up her intelligence and love of knowledge. Noticing the change in her Maman she leapt off her lap and took a running jump at Hermione who caught her laughing. She swung her in a circle before cradling her to her chest and pressing a kiss into her fair locks. _So much like.. but no I musn't think of that, of her-_ she cut herself off rapidly.

Gently she lowered herself to the ground and drew back from the two year olds embrace. _"Now my darling Gaby, I do believe I have forgotten something very important can you think what it is," _Hermione proceeded to screw up her face in mock thought.

Her goddaughter giggled in that adorable toddler way. "Birthday!" Recently having heard a number of English stories she had retained this one word affectionately. Hermione returned her laughter.

Ducat transfigured a small coffee table out of an empty bucket she had strategically placed in the room before bed the previous night. She summoned a smile light show to keep her angel amused. It changed between a spontaneous firework-esque display and happy birthday.

Together the three enjoyed an orange cake and eachothers company. While it lasted it was perfect. Unfortunately good fortune is a double edged sword.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Hey peeps! My is back! And in just over 24 hours too. I've a number of reasons for this; 1. I feel that I owe this to anyone trawling through my story for a semblance of plot over the last while, 2. A wave of brilliance hit me.. or a tidal one of crap. Either way it gave me material for this chapter and 3. I found the latest guest review insanely amusing for no good reason. In response I dedicate this chapter to Wxte and give the answers to the questions: Yes, in a manner of speaking, yes, can't say, oh she will, no, no, no, because she's a child, because she's one tough cookie and the location will move yes. **

**Cheers all.**

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Chapter 11: A gentle touch- the good fortunes of youth part III

_While it lasted it was perfect. Unfortunately good fortune is a double edged sword. _

Water splashed everywhere as the cloth fell from Ducat's trembling hand into the basin of water and antiseptic. At this stage she didn't think anything could surprise her but the web that criss-crossed her young charges back told a story that made her wish she hadn't devoured so many sweet treats, or at the very least had given more to the girl.

What she saw was downright vicious and she couldn't understand the reasoning behind it. Never before had they been so brutal. It made her quake and all colour drain from her features as she broke out in a cold sweat. It didn't bear thinking about. Grimacing she fished the cloth from the warm water before wringing it out thoroughly.

Had Hermione not been deep in thought, perhaps she would have heard the warning sign that signalled she ought to prepare for something big. Right then however her focus was captivated by thoughts of Fleur. It perplexed her. Any occasion she had been with the girl she had been nothing short of sweet. Even letting her into her bed when she was little better than the very urchins she herself had once cursed.

Granted it had got her into trouble but she found it hard to believe that she did so on purpose. _Would she?_ Herein lay the dilemma. Time and time again it was Fleur that seemed to be both her saviour and torment. This state of constant fluctuation, neither yielding more than the other reminded her of stories she had read of purgatory. Internally she chastised herself for being silly.

With a wince Hermione found herself jerked from her thoughts. Quickly she found herself gritting her teeth in order not to allow another sound to pass her lips. Instead she thought of sweet Gabrielle who had only just been settled into bed. To help herself through the cleaning routine that she was now overly acquainted with she pretended that the toddler was sleeping in Ducat's bed behind her. If she knew what happened.. it would damage her irreversibly. This in mind she set her jaw and locked her eyes on a peeling corner of wallpaper. Unconsciously, it happened to be the same distraction that her mentor had found when she was in turmoil of her own.

Ducat set to her task with vigour and firmness. Although it was not her intention to bring further harm to the girl, it was essential that she could get at the wounds to ascertain the level of their severity and the risk of infection present. A grimace set itself upon her face once more when her back was clean and the damage exposed. They were deep although thankfully they had stopped bleeding. A little dittany would have done the job. Unfortunately it was strictly forbidden to tend to injuries beyond muggle means.

Biting her lip she cast her eyes around and checked to see if Hermione was responsive with another quick swipe. The girl didn't even flinch. Her brow creased at this however she didn't wait any longer. From a pocket within her dress she drew out a bottle and added three drops to the water. _This way_, she reasoned, _it will take the worst out of it and when fully healed will only leave light scarring. It will be less suspicious than if applied undiluted._

Hermione was drawn out of her thoughts by the returning of the stinging sensation as Ducat tended to her. Her back tensed. Maybe it hurt more because there was no protection from the direct contact? She found herself unable to relax from her stiffened state. Thankfully it wasn't long before it stopped once more, replaced by a cool soothing sensation.

After swiping with the cloth so as to apply the healing essence evenly and thinly she set it down to replace it with a salve. This she spread generously. The effects were immediately noticeable. The heat had been removed from her young charges skin and once more she was pliant beneath her gentle ministrations. To finish off she wrapped gauze around to keep the dressings in place.

Noticing the cessation of Ducat's actions Hermione quickly drew her shirt over her head, a burst of air the only indication of the discomfort she was in.

A sad smile graced Ducat's features when the girl turned to face her impassive. _"Come, let us get to bed, tomorrow will be a busy day." _

As the girl followed her mind wandered to the next day, _of course it will be busy, Madame Maxime will be visiting to discuss Fleur starting school next month. _Hermione tried not to wonder what it would mean for her.

Little did she know what the morning would bring.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Yeah.. I don't even know. The suspense was killing me I couldn't just leave me hanging like that, I wanted to know what was happening next, I've been looking forward to this. Where the story actually starts moving from it's stagnation. Wooh! Be prepared for another instalment later today. Until then, on we go.**

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Chapter 12: Opening doors and sealing fates- Beauxbatons Headmistress part I

_Little did she know what the morning would bring._

"_Hermione! Hermione! For heaven's sake wake up child!" _Ducat continued shaking the girl in an attempt to rouse her. It was curious. Normally she was a light sleeper and an early riser. Perhaps yesterday had taken more out of her than she had previously feared, that prompted yet another round of shaking her young charge. Eventually she gave up, dousing the girl in a fine spray of cold water that she was sure would do the trick.

Hermione woke with a start, bolting upright. Her eyes widened as she registered Ducat getting to her feet and brushing herself off. Normally she would have expected a scolding however the anxiety that was radiating from the woman gave her cause to spring out of bed.

_Well that worked alright_. Ducat picked herself off the floor mildly amused but too nervous to allow it to shine through. She waved her hand sending a controlled wave of heat over the girl drying her off. Even though she would take a shower once she left the room, no reason to give any chance to develop a cold. _No, _she thought darkly as her face turned stone like. _That wouldn't do at all._

Hermione relaxed, ruffling her thick locks before raising a brow quizzically at her mentor. _What's going on? _

Ducat snapped out of it, "_Hurry and make yourself presentable but don't stand out. Perhaps a clean t-shirt and jeans, hm?" _She saw the girl scowl at this.

It wasn't that Hermione found the clothing unsavoury. In all honesty where she in another place at another time, that would likely have been her choice of clothing. That's what got her. It wasn't her choice. It was yet another decision made for and enforced on her. Worse still it seemed to be one purposefully made to isolate her further from any of the others.

It's not that the clothing was in any better condition but the fact that it was so easily discernible from the uniform worn by the rest that it made a mockery of her. It was impossible for her NOT to stand out. Her clothing too similar to that which the Veela children wore for her to find any comfort in them besides the physical. _Another thing I have Fleur to thank for I suppose._

_E_ven then they were practically thread-worn. Unlike the others she didn't have the benefit of a hoodie or jacket or even thicker clothing. _Probably because Fleur is always so coddled and warm.. _her scowl deepened at this though as a ripple of pain tore through her for her mutinous thoughts. Hermione consciously made an effort not to think of her any further, allowing her features to smoothen out. She had enough to be dealing with sans the emotional and physical torment that came with thoughts of _chére Fleur. _With this in mind- _or out of if you want to be pedantic,_she thought sourly- Hermione curtly nodded at Ducat, continuing to calm herself.

Ducat quirked an eyebrow at the child's antics. Perhaps recent events affected her more profoundly than she let on. This was the closest Hermione had ever come to a temper tantrum that she was sure was long overdue. However it was probably for the best that she in a way bottled her feelings. Mentally she made a note to give the girl an outlet. She had one in mind that she felt would suit her..

With this she summoned a plain white cotton t-shirt and dark blue jeans from the girls cupboard. Ducat had considered black for the warmth it would have provided however in the Delacour mansion where the colour scheme was light except for floor and wood furnishings, it would have been of little benefit in the way of keeping the girl from trouble.

"_Shower quickly but thoroughly. The guest should be arriving soon." _With this final message, she left the girl to prepare for the day ahead.

And what a day it would be..


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N This is the last one I promise (although there is one more part to this piece) then you shall all have to go back to waiting for me to get my life to fit to a schedule that allows me to update. However this chapter will answer one of the recurring questions my generous reviewers ask. Please continue reviewing and asking questions, it keeps me on track and sometimes reminds me I've missed something. **

**Enjoy.**

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Chapter 13: Limitations- Beauxbatons Headmistress part II

_And what a day it would be.._

Were she in her own company, Hermione would have let out an almighty sigh. She could honestly say that she had made every attempt possible hand on heart, to be as unobtrusive as possible. In fact she barely moved unless requested, and that wasn't often at all as it seemed Apolline was determined for her to be ignored.

That suited Hermione just fine, which is why it frustrated and peaked her curiosity that the massive woman with her heavily lidded eyes seemed to be fixated with her. If she thought she could get away with it she would have turned away or, at the very least, shuffled from one foot to the other. A sharp yet subtle shake of the head from Apolline paired with a glare that spoke volumes about what were to happen if she disobeyed led her to desist.

Apolline's eyes narrowed as her attention was brought to the little English bastard. Despite the presence of a number of other mates in the room and several other Veela of significant rank, Olympe kept looking to the girl. She knew why of course. That didn't mean she had to be happy about it though.

...

The dinner had finally ended and Apolline once more adjourned to her office with the headmistress of Beauxbatons.

"_I'm afraid I must insist Apolline. The girl must start this year, especially if her education is to be limited to OWL's!" _Olympe exclaimed in exasperation. She failed to understand how an intelligent woman like Apolline could not see the necessity for this course of action. Not to mention the potential she saw in the child and the effect she knew it would have on her mate.

The Veela made no attempt to hide her displeasure as her lip curled into a sneer. "_Very well, if you are resolute then I wish Fleur to be skipped another year ahead. I assure you she is well able and it is only bending protocol. After all there is no precedent for this scenario. It will also permit them to complete their schooling at the same time, which is the purpose of all this, no?" _Her tone successfully remained cordial bordering on saccharine, even as thoughts ran venomously through her mind.

Olympe's composure finally dropped. Her exhaustion on full display. "_If that is what it takes." _

On anyone else the shit-eating grin that the Veela currently wore could be described as nothing but. Being Veela of course, it was too poised to be more than smug. "_It is settled then." _


End file.
